Trials Of The Underworld
by ograndebatata
Summary: After Killian Jones walked into the light, King Arthur of Camelot stayed behind to help the souls trapped in the Underworld. But the task before him is great, and the obstacles in his path are many. A series of oneshots. Open to prompts.
1. Assistance, Warnings, And Answers

_When we last saw King Arthur in Once Upon A Time, he said he wanted to stay in the Underworld, believing it to be the broken kingdom he was prophesied to repair. Alas, we did not have much screentime devoted to that plotline, and for all we currently know it may never be brought up again._

 _This is my attempt to make up for that. I hope you enjoy this beginning. As I said in the summary, this story is open to prompts, so feel free to send them._

 _Disclaimer: I do not own Once Upon A Time. It is propriety of Edward Kistis, Adam Horowitz, and ABC Television Network. I am simply having fun in their playground, with no intention to derive profit from it, and hoping those who read this will enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it._

* * *

 **Assistance, Warnings, and Answers**

 _His story began in Camelot, as an orphan who mucked out stalls._

 _Like most stuck in such an existence, he felt he was bound to that fate forever, with no hope of being more. Unlike others,_ _yough Arthur was given a reason to dream louder, when one day, the Sorcerer Merlin prophesied that he would repair a broken kingdom after pulling a sword from a stone._

 _Over the years, he did more than dream when it came to achieving that goal. He gathered knights, made alliances, and looked for the sword in the prophecy, Excalibur._

 _Alas, a surprise awaited him for when he found it._

 _The sword, like the kingdom he was destined to repair, was broken. In Arthur's mind, that could not be. He could not rule Camelot while Excalibut wasn't whole._

 _So as one quest ended, another began._

 _Years passed, failures followed failures, and Arthur slid ever deeper into madness, his whole being devoted to re-uniting Excalibur. The path pushed him to extremes he would never have imagined him before, like throwing the Sands Of Avalon at his wife to force her to stay with him, or wage war on a nearby kingdom for a helmet who could command others into following him._

 _Before he knew, he had become a villain._

 _Like most villains, he met his match, when Emma Swan, the Dark One then tethered to Excalibur's missing tip, stopped him, aided by her suitor, Captain Hook. After being thwarted twice, first in Camelot, and later in a town by the name of Storybrooke, Arthur spent weeks in jail before escaping._

 _In what turned out to be a cycle of failures, his escape lead only to his death at the hands of Hades, former ruler of the Underworld._

 _But his story did not end there. Death, and the man he had almost killed, gave him a second chance. A chance to atone for his mistakes, to be a better man, to finish his first righteous quest in decades._

 _And over the course of said quest, Arthur, having realized his shortcomings and wanting to be better, decided to embark on another one. One that would lead him to do good rather than evil, and finally fulfill the prophecy he had heard so many years before._

 _So, after Captain Hook left him alone by the boat they had traveled on, he faced the green waters of the River Of Lost Souls, planning out his repair of the Underworld, and weighing the options that lay ahead of him before he took action._

* * *

 _By the River Of Lost Souls, some time after King Arthur watched Killian Jones departing the Underworld..._

The sound of footsteps brought him out of his musings.

Arthur turned away from the bluish waters full of poisonous-green souls, facing the archway Captain Hook had walked through. A man he had never seen walked out of it, his white outfit contrasting against the tunnel's black depths, and his blue eyes trained on the dead king.

Arthur's mind told him to be cautious. At his and the Captain's arrival, the words 'Abandon All Hope Ye Who Enter Here' had been written above that tunnel in giant letters. The inscription had faded after the book made its way to Emma Swan, but whatever was at the end of the tunnel could still exist.

But no fear or alarm rose within him. There was just something about this man that conveyed a sense of peace. He looked imposing for sure, as he was taller than Arthur and solidly built, but every line in the man's expression was calm and solemn.

"Greetings, stranger" Arthur told the man. "Welcome to the Underworld."

The moment the words were out of his mouth, Arthur wished he could take them back. If this man was here, he must have just died. His words had been too crass to be spoken to a recently departed (or arrived) person.

"Hello, Arthur," the man greeted in a pleasant voice as he approached.

Surprise flickered within him.

"How do you know my name?" The answer came to him when he realized who the stranger might have met. "Did the Captain tell you?"

"He did not. I simply know many things."

Something about the way the man had spoken reminded Arthur of Merlin. He must be some kind of wizard.

 _Or something even grander._ Arthur realized as the man got within arm's reach. A detail on his appearance caught Arthur's attention. The brace around this man's wrist was equal to the one worn by the one wielding the Olympian Crystal in the picture at the storybook page Arthur had seen. Whoever he was, this being, or deity, or whatever he was, was connected to Hades.

"Who are you? What are you doing here?"

"You can call me Zeus," the being, whatever he was, replied. "And I am here, among other reasons, to thank you. Your helping hand played a role in ending my misguided brother's path of destruction."

Something told Arthur he should be much more awed, but now that his questions were answered, he could only feel remnants of puzzlement. He had never heard of any Zeus, just like he had never of Hades before meeting him. His humble beginnings hadn't provided many opportunities for learning, and his obsession with repairing Excalibur had consumed him too much for recreational reading. Still, he realized that Zeus held great standing and rank.

"Your thanks are appreciated," Arthur replied, hoping those words would be enough, that Zeus wouldn't find them disrespectfully insuficient.

He did not appear to, which made Arthur's dead muscles loosen in relief. It would have been a bad beginning for his repair of the Underworld if he was impeded before he even began.

 _Which I might still be._ Arthur realized as he recalled Zeus' exact words.

"If I may ask, what are you here for other than thanking me?" He managed to keep his tone calm, but he knew his widened eyes had betrayed him.

Zeus raised a hand in appeasement.

"I am also here because I learned of your intentions to repair this place, and came to provide you some assistance in that task. Or, if you have changed your mind since then, to escort you onward."

Relief flooded him again. Arthur might have no idea on what repairing the Underworld entailed, but he wanted to do it no matter the obstacles that lay in his path, and would rather not have one of those be a god even more powerful than Hades.

"Thank you for your second offer, but I would rather stay. After everything I did in life, it's only fair I try to help those down here."

He would be thankful for whatever assistance he got, but he kept that to himself. He wasn't worthy of it after everything he had done.

Zeus rested his hand on Arthur's shoulder.

"Good luck then."

The moment Zeus finished speaking, a strange warmth spread through Arthur's body, like the legends said happened to those who drank from the Holy Grail. He looked down at his hand, now enveloped in a strange glow, and then his mind awoke as an equivalent warmth spread across it, like a melted block of ice under an open flame.

Arthur gasped as the glow in his hand faded. All of a sudden, it was as if he had been filled to the brim with power. Power of the likes maybe not even Merlin had ever felt. It rushed through his whole being, ready to come out at Arthur's command, and capable of doing things he would never have imagined. He felt like he could clear a roadway with a thought, put out a forest fire with a breath, or hold back a torrent with a finger. And he knew how to do it; besides the power, he had been given the knowledge on how to use it. Not limitless varied knowledge, but enough that he knew how to summon forth his magic, and could learn to manipulate it given enough time.

But rather than joy or euphoria, fear swelled up within him as the god let go of his shoulder.

"What did you do to me?" Arthur demanded.

Zeus again raised his hand. "Do not fear, Arthur. I only gave you the assistance I was talking about."

His fear soared higher. That was what Zeus meant by assistance? Depositing such vast power in the hands of someone like him?

"No. No, please," He seized the front of Zeus' robes. "Take them back. I was already a terrible king when I was a mere human who only got access to magical sand. I dread to think what pain I may inflict with godly powers."

Zeus raised an eyebrow. "Do you wish to inflict any pain on anyone?"

"Of course not! But what if I cannot help myself?"

"As long as you want to, which I know you do, you will be able to help yourself."

Arthur's hands loosened and fell to his sides, the spots where he'd sized Zeus' robe as crease-free as if the garment had just been starched. The god spoke with utter confidence, but Arthur had let people down before, Guinevere, Lancelot and his subjects being the first examples to come to him. He might have helped to look for some pages and to put them back in their book, but did that prevent him from falling even harder than he had when he saw Excalibur broken?

"Should it come to that, I will stop you," Zeus said. "But I have faith it will not."

 _That's a relief._ Arthur thought. Not that the god had faith it would not come to such extremes, but that he would intervene if it happened. While Arthur did hope it would not, and was determined to do his best to ensure that, he was only human, and thus flawed.

But at this point, it was up to him. And he wanted to be better in death than in life.

"Do not be deceived," Zeus warned. "What I gave you evens the odds, but it will not end all your obstacles. And I must warn you, you will find plenty of those. Many will not like you in charge, and a few of them have powerful magic of their own. The witch you saw at the diner would have been able to send you into the River Of Lost Souls had you gone to meet her as you were. The woman with bi-colored hair does not have much magical power of her own, but she can rally animals against you. And if Rumplestiltskin ever is killed, he is bound to come down here once another Dark One displaces him from the Vault. He will be tougher to deal with than anyone currently residing in the Underworld, even with your new magic."

Most of the fear Arthur had felt of his powers vanished, replaced by his fear of dealing with such powerful and cunning foes. He might not be particularly smart, but he knew that even now he would have problems if he had to face Rumplestiltskin, especially given that he had the power of every Dark One who came before him in addition to his own.

But that was an issue to be handled when the time arrived. Until then, he would focus on present issues.

"This is all," Zeus finished. "I know you may have more questions, but I believe it will be better if you learn their answers on your own."

Arthur would have liked a few more hints on what he needed to do, but he could see where Zeus was coming from. Still, he would risk at least one more question.

"If it's not too much, could you perchance tell me what happened to Guinevere?" Realizing clarification might be needed, he added, "She is…" the words 'my wife' came up but Arthur corrected himself to, "my widow. I hurt her terribly when we were married. Could you tell me how she has been doing over the last weeks?"

Arthur did not presume his request would be met, but, to his surprise, Zeus raised his hand up to his chest, its palm pointing upwards. A crystal ball full of white smoke shimmered into existence on his cupped hand. Then, the smoke vanished to reveal an image that appeared to be relayed by one of those televisions that existed in Storybrooke.

It showed Guinevere and Lancelot on some location in Storybrooke, walking side by side under a dripping black umbrella. Their faces were set in a solemn look Arthur felt had little or nothing to do with his death, and both were in the Camelot clothes he had last seen them wearing, only with black cloaks above. They must be going to or returning from someone's funeral.

After a few seconds, the image vanished. As Zeus lowered the crystal ball, he explained, "After you were incarcerated, Sir Lancelot showed himself to Snow White and Prince Charming in Storybrooke. When he explained what had happened, the Blue Fairy released Queen Guinevere from the influence of the Sands of Avalon. She and Sir Lancelot have been leading the Camelot residents who were taken to Storybrooke ever since. I imagine they will be returning to Camelot soon."

Arthur smiled.

"I am relieved to know that."

Lancelot and Guinevere were much better to one another than he had been to either of them, especially since he had pulled Excalibur from the stone. They were also aware of the people's needs. They would care for Camelot far better than he ever had. Perhaps they would even actually restore it, instead of using magical sand to make it appear repaired.

Again, Zeus looked ready to leave, but Arthur had one more question.

"Whose funeral was that?"

"Robin Hood's," Zeus replied.

And for the first time, his solemn countenance was broken. Immense sadness flooded his eyes, as if the thief's death somehow resonated within him. Not at the level one felt sad when learning someone specific but still unknown had died, but more deeply, as if Zeus could related to Robin Hood's death on a personal level, perhaps it was because he had been a casualty of his brother's path of destruction.

Even Arthur felt his heart clenching in sadness. He hadn't been close to the outlaw, and his more prominent memories of Robin Hood were those of him being stabbed by Sir Percival and of him being dragged away by the Fury. But even in the midst of his obsession, he had realized Robin had been a good man who would be missed by many.

"Will I be seeing him down here?"

Zeus let out a deep sigh. "Your guess is as good as mine."

There was nothing to say nothing to that. Arthur would help Robin Hood if the thief appeared in the Underworld, but he would rather the outlaw went directly to the 'better place' - as returning him to the living was impossible.

That thought pushed forth one last question.

"What happened to the Captain? Did he make it to the 'better place'?"

Still with remnants of solemnity, but looking relieved at the change of subject, Zeus replied, "He is where he belongs."

That should be a more elaborate way of saying 'yes'.

"Good luck, Arthur," Zeus finished. "Farewell."

Arthur nodded. "Farewell. And thank you for your help."

After one final nod, Zeus vanished in a cloud of pure white smoke. When it faded, Arthur was alone again, facing the dark tunnel. The inscription above it was still missing, but the river kept flowing in its direction.

The former king turned back to the water. Countless souls still swam around in it. Each of them a person with unfinished business, someone Arthur wanted to help move on.

When taking into account those he couldn't see, and the ones out of the river but still with unfinished business, Arthur knew he had a huge task before him, one he still wasn't sure he was ready for.

But even after all he had heard, he wanted to undertake it. And for the warnings he had been given and all his own apprehension, deep down, he still believed that, like he had told Captain Hook before they parted, he would be alright.

* * *

 _So, this was it._

 _I know not much has happened, but I promise, there is a reason for it._

 _As I said both in the summary and in the beginning of this oneshot, this series is open to prompts; in fact it is, to a degree, meant to be prompt-dependent. So please send me any prompts for things you would like to see. You can send them through reviews here, through PMs here, through my AO3 account (where my username also is 'ograndebatata') and through my Tumblr, which also is ograndebatata._

 _I hope you enjoyed this first oneshot, and that you will enjoy any that end up following._


	2. By The Clock Tower

_Well, it seems responsiveness to this idea wasn't quite as great as my expectations envisioned._

 _All the same, thank you very much for the early response to my story, in terms of reviews and readership alike. I hope you're all enjoying this._

 _This oneshot introduces the prompts from Zee-Zee Magee of fanfiction dot net (Stealthy moving on) and Bookworm101234 from archiveofourown (Arthur versus Cruella), though they don't get fully borne out yet. I hope you enjoy._

 _As always, if you want to send a prompt of your own, feel free to._

* * *

 **By The Clock Tower**

 _He had come into existence as one of eight, born from an egg and deep under ground as his kind did. The first thing he did after being welcomed by the eggs' guard was collect the pickaxe that would name him. It had named him Stealthy; as with all dwarfs, the name fit._

 _For his first year, his life had consisted essentially of mining for fairy dust and going to the pubs in his downtime, like every other dwarf's. Then, it took a turn when one of his brothers, Dreamy, fell in love with a fairy. Stealthy could no more understand that than his six other brothers could, but nevertheless all of them supported their brother's decision to run away with her. Later, they supported Dreamy also when he broke said fairy's heart for her own sake. And when Dreamy, after he was renamed to Grumpy, ended up in King George's dungeon after changing his mind and trying to win back the fairy, Stealthy went to save him._

 _He succeeded, but met his end by doing so, and spent over thirty years in the Underworld struggling with unfinished business he didn't know. Even after he found out, he became unable to move on after learning that the former ruler of the Underworld intended to wreak havoc in Storybrooke._

 _Mere hours later, Stealthy learned of Captain Hook's and King Arthur's plan to help the Savior, in the world of the living. The moment he did, he settled down in the diner to wait for news._

 _He had guessed from the beginning it could be a long wait, but he wasn't ready for just how so. Nor was he ready for the bits of information he overheard while he waited._

* * *

 _In the Blind Witch's Diner…_

This might not be Hell, but as far as Stealthy was concerned, it was close enough. King Arthur and Captain Hook still hadn't returned from their quest, knowing his unfinished business did not magically poof him out of the Underworld, and the Blind Witch and Cruella De Vil had spent the last hours talking so loudly about the changes they planned to make that maybe even the living could hear them even without the phone booth.

Worse, news had arrived about the doomed people in the River Of Lost Souls rising out of the water and dragging others in. So far they couldn't get too far from the river, but that could change. And as Cruella had taken the care to point out to him specifically, 'the stubble sandwich' was bound to have run into them on their way out, which meant they were just 'two more swirls for that glorified spinach soup'.

If that was true, then Hades must be up to no good in the world of the living. There had been no new arrivals since Arthur, but just because no one had died it didn't mean no one was suffering.

All kinds of thoughts about his brothers being enslaved by the God of Death traveled across his head like a herd of deer running in circles, even as he tried to steer them away from his worst ideas. And the Blind Witch and Cruella coming over to enjoy the terror he made no effort to hide was no help.

But Stealthy's hope had endured over thirty years in the Underworld. What was left of it could survive for a few hours longer.

Even if those two hags were doing a pretty good job of stamping it out.

* * *

 _In the Underworld's Sorcerer's Mansion..._

He had struggled with the idea of taking up residence in Merlin's home. He hadn't made the Sorcerer proud, and either the man himself or the Apprentice might show up at any time and have the dead man's equivalent of a heart attack at seeing him. But the mansion fit far too many requirements. It was seemingly vacant, it was out of the way, and it was inherently powerful enough that the worst of evildoers stayed away; from what Captain Jones had told him, Hades hadn't even been able to approach it.

So he had moved in. Now he stood before a full length mirror in the largest sleeping room, surveying his new look for one last time, still not sure it fit him.

As the clothes he had died in stood out too much, he had changed into a suit like those he had seen in Storybrooke, with a silver vest, jacket, and trousers, a white dress shirt, a purple necktie and pocket square, and black dress shoes. None of those had been his color when he was alive, but Arthur wanted some distance from the person he had died as, and the color scheme seemed decent from his limited knowledge of that kind of attire.

He had more important issues to take care of anyway, and between his preliminary self-training in using his new powers, his brief familiarization with the Underworld, and his change of look, he had already lost too much time. He might not be getting any deader, but after what he had learned of the two witches ruling in Hades' stead, he didn't want to leave them in charge any longer.

More nervous than he had been when he deceived his subjects with the broken Excalibur, Arthur smoothed down his jacket, nodded at his reflection, and vanished from the Sorcerer's Mansion in a cloud of silver smoke.

* * *

 _In the Blind Witch's Diner..._

" _Attention._ "

Stealthy jumped in his seat at the sound: half of the beer in the mug jumped out and exploded across the table's surface, several stray globs splattering his chest. All sorts of reactions ensued at other spots; Cruella dropped a glass of alcohol into the ground, the Blind Witch gasped, and even the kid who had stopped talking centuries ago looked up.

That voice had come out of nowhere, and while conversational in tone, it seemed to be heard through the whole place as if the speaker was right beside each person at the same time. It did not sound aggressive - in fact, it even had a touch of hesitation - but everyone knew it took some powerful magic to make that.

"What was that?" Cruella snarked.

"It sounded like that armored beefcake's voice," the Blind Witch replied, all the usual breathiness of her voice gone.

The armored beefcake. She must mean King Arthur. And indeed, it had sounded like him. But he didn't have magic when Stealthy last saw him. How could he have done that?

" _Attention. Attention to everyone in the Underworld. Please gather by the clocktower. There are important news for you to hear."_

That was Arthur's voice. There was no doubt now. But how was he doing that? And what did he want?

" _Please do not be afraid. I will not hurt you. I merely have an important message to give you, and would like to give it in person to as many of you as possible._ "

Chattering rose up amongst the diner like the buzzing of a whole beehive. Cruella glared all across the room, but no one even seemed to notice her; the excited and hopeful murmurs were too prevalent.

Stealthy kept quiet, but he shared the sentiment. For Arthur to be giving a message, he hadn't fallen into the river. And if he hadn't fallen into the river, he had somehow sent the pages to the Savior, and Hades had been defeated. It did not answer the question of how he was sending this message, but Stealthy didn't really need to know that. He'd take someone like Arthur a thousand times before settling for Cruella and the Blind Witch.

" _I shall be giving my message in twenty minutes, by the now restored clock tower,_ " Arthur finished. " _I look forward to seeing as many of you as possible. Farewell._ "

The moment Arthur finished speaking, all the people in the diner stampeded out of the door like a pack of ravenous dogs racing for the same bone. The degraded panel had no chance against them - it crumbled to pieces as if either no one bothered to open it or whoever did was unable to do so before being pushed by those behind him. Startled exclamations rose up from Cruella's and the Blind Witch's throats as they looked at the fleeing crowd. Meanwhile, Stealthy let go of his mug and hid under the table and chairs he had been sitting at.

Would it do any good? That breathy-voiced hag had a nose sharper than a bloodhound's, and though Stealthy had started masking his scent years ago, maybe it wouldn't be enough.

"What do we do?" Stealthy heard the Blind Witch asking, all hints from her usual breathiness gone.

The other woman scoffed in reply. "What do you think, darling? We march up to that conceited poser and show him he can't come around and steal our playpen."

A few seconds of silence followed.

"Should we really do that? There's something weird about Arthur suddenly being able to talk to us like this. It's almost as if he gained magic."

Cruella burst into laughter.

"You must have eaten something that's even more rotten than usual, darling! That's not magic; the stud must simply be using some kind of hidden radio to talk to us! It's just a trick to throw us off!"

"But he said the clock tower was repaired…"

For the first time, Cruella took a while to answer, the only sound from her a hum from thought. Then she said, "Maybe he's learned a few tricks now, but do you really think he can do anything that can best the stuff Hades gave you?"

Even without looking at her, Stealthy could almost sense the witch grinning again.

"That's the spirit, darling!" he heard Cruella cheering. "Now stop being pessimistic and come with me to crush the hopes of everyone in the Underworld, beginning with that delusional oaf!"

A pleased hum from the witch followed Cruella's response.

"Before or after his speech?"

Cruella's answering laugh made icy needles jab Stealthy's spine.

"After, darling. Much more hope to crush that way." Another moment of silence followed. "Let's go. It'll be nice to see just how much hope we'll be crushing."

Stealthy heard the Blind Witch snort in annoyance, presumably at Cruella's use of the word 'see'. Then he heard both women's heels clicking on the diner's floor, and then thudding on the stone floor outside thanks to the broken door.

They were in for a nasty surprise, in Stealthy's opinion. Whatever had happened to Arthur, the tricks he had learned were impressive. The fact he had spoken of a restored clock tower proved it. Stealthy had lost count of how many times groups of prisoners had tried to restore it as a punishment from Hades, but he knew that whenever that happened, the thing never held up for more than a minute before crumbling back down with a thunderous boom. If Arthur had managed to repair it and there had been no mighty crash yet, things looked good.

But those two witches had a few tricks up their own sleeves, and Arthur might not be ready for them. Someone had to warn him. And with them not having noticed him, Stealthy could do that.

Relieved that he hadn't lost his touch, the dwarf crept out from under the table and followed the witches at a distance, determined to see what they were planning so he knew what he should warn Arthur about.

* * *

 _By the Underworld's clock tower..._

Thanks to his magic, he had repaired the clock tower with a single wave from his hand, and cleared the debris from the floor with an equally simple gesture. Accomplishing both feats had made him stare at the results of his job like an awed fish, at least until people started arriving, by which time he composed his expression.

The turnout was not particularly big, as far as Arthur could tell. Still, there were enough people to fill a reasonable amount of space on every direction he could look at, although any late arrivals still had enough room to make it to the front if they wished. If Arthur had to guess, most people in the Underworld had stayed away, afraid he would just turn out to be the next Hades.

It made sense. Although he had tried to sound as friendly and reassuring in his speech as possible, the idea of a new magical overlord must not be appealing to many.

Regardless of the low turnout, most of the people he could see looked either cautiously hopeful or downright eager to hear what he had to say. Not one face he could spot looked angry at him or eager to have him removed.

Perhaps it should be reassuring, but it only made his nervousness soar. When he had proved himself to be the rightful ruler of Camelot (or so he thought) by displaying Excalibur to his people, they at least had evidence, and even in the face of it, many questioned how an orphan who mucked out stalls could be the ruler who would repair their broken kingdom. Now, even though he had no true evidence that he was the one meant to repair this broken kingdom, (being chosen by Zeus wasn't something he could easily prove) there were no questioning or reproachful faces, and almost everyone he saw seemed at least hopeful about his takeover, with a few even looking at him as if he was the Savior.

Either Hades had been an even worse king that Arthur thought, or the witches had somehow managed to outdo even the God of Death in rottenness.

Arthur had no problem believing in either, but knowing he had such a mess to repair did not soothe him in the least.

* * *

The twenty minutes he had announced drained by faster than water from a stabbed goatskin. Most people that he figured would come were already here, muttering amongst themselves, but a few late arrivals still swerved through the crowds to get at what they deemed a nice spot to listen to him.

Arthur enabled the late arrivals to settle into the spot they chose, and then raised his hand to request for silence. The sounds around him faded like snuffed flames, save for a few scattered whispers. With silence back, Arthur reactivated the spell he had used to inform the Underworld's citizens of his speech, one that enabled him to speak with everyone in the Underworld at the same time, and yet making it so that no one would hear more than a conversational tone.

With the spell in place, he smoothed down his jacket once more, and began speaking.

"Greetings, inhabitants of the Underworld. I am King Arthur of Camelot, and I have important news to give all of you."

He paused to see if his introduction would trigger any angry comments or physical violence. No one reacted particularly differently. If any people harmed by his rule were here, they were keeping quiet for one reason or another.

"As those who haven't seen me may have guessed, I am new to this place. And as you may have noticed from my recent accomplishments…" saying so, he gestured to the restored clock-tower behind him "... I have been, how shall I put it, blessed with certain gifts recently."

It should be a good way to put it, but it probably hadn't been the best thing to say; a few nervous faces were appearing here and there.

"Please don't get scared, I won't use them to hurt any of you. I know you have been through three very detestable leaders, and I do not wish to follow in their steps. I do not profess to have been the best leader myself when I was alive, but I will strive to be the best I can."

A few of the nervous faces started to perk up, but several remained uneasy. Arthur went on with his speech.

"Above all, I ask you to look at me not as a new king, but as a restorer. I am aware the Underworld has not served its proper purpose for a long time. That this place, meant to help people deal with their unfinished business so they can move on, has been distorted into a site of suffering whose rulers only mean to cause pain. I promise you, I will not be like that. And I invite all who need help to tell me about your problems, so that I can assist you in dealing with them. This is by no means a conscription or a summons, and I promise not to take offense to any who would rather I had nothing to do with them. But to those who need a helping hand, know that both of mine are available."

It was hardly the best joke ever told in all the realms, but chuckles and even a few barked laughs rippled through the crowd. It must have been long since anyone in charge had told a joke unrelated to suffering.

Arthur let them enjoy the humor, and then assumed the most serious expression he possibly could. He was about to say something he would rather not have to say, but which he felt was best spoken than left unsaid.

"And while I wish it did not have to be this way, I do have one warning to issue." Seeing all eyes back on him, now with general apprehension, he finished, "What any of you did in life does not matter. Even now, you can change. I know that from experience, and will help anyone who wants to be helped, regardless of what they did in life." He turned his expression as serious as it possibly could, and dropped his voice to a firm tone. "However, I request that no one tries to make afterlife miserable for anyone else. If you do, I will have to intervene."

A few disappointed murmurs rose up here and there, but each one fell silent when Arthur turned a stern gaze in the sound's direction. Even with them, the general reception to his speech still seemed much better than the one he had gotten after proclaiming himself King of Camelot. No disbelieving scoffs, no actual angry faces, and no challenges for the crown… just a sea of hopeful gazes so intense it almost made him dizzy.

"I shall be available whenever you need me," he went on, speaking in his calmer tone again. "Anyone interested in doing so can talk to me right now, and for those who aren't ready to do so yet, I am residing in the Sorcerer's Mansion for the time being."

A few people took a step forward on the spot, but froze there, as if thinking he had more to say.

"That is all for now. Thank you for listening."

Saying so, he disengaged the spell he had cast, in case anyone wanted to talk to him right now. An old lady with her face covered in wrinkles and a heavyset middle-aged man with a hairless head leaned slightly forward as if they were ready to do just that.

But then, everyone but himself shook in fright as another voice blared through the area without the assistance of any spell.

"Is that all, darling? Well then, now you're going to hear my piece."

As the voice spoke up, the crowd on the street to his left parted faster than a block of butter cut with a hot knife, and two women he was already familiar with made their way toward him. The only difference was that now, he could see the magic clinging to them in unpleasant bitter-looking clouds that had him fighting back the urge to grimace.

"Clear the path, worms!" the one with white and black hair snarled. "Your true rulers are coming through!"

More than clearing a path, most of them fled like rabbits. Some stray brave souls stayed relatively near to see what would ensue, but to Arthur's relief, even the closest ones he could see were over sixty feet away. Unless either of these witches could unleash something really strong, they wouldn't be hurt.

"How can I help you, ladies?" Arthur asked in his best polite voice.

The blind witch made a noise of mock-consideration, and then replied, "I would say 'By dropping dead.', but seeing as we're all dead here, I'll say instead 'By jumping into the River of Lost Souls.'."

Arthur gave her a thin smile, even though he knew she couldn't see it.

"Duly noted, but I'm afraid I can't do that. I intend to repair the Underworld, and I can't do it under that water."

The blind woman shrugged her shapely shoulders.

"Worth a shot," she somehow both breathed and screeched.

The other woman snorted, her heavily made up eyes like two black patches on her face.

"Do you really think we'll just let you stroll in here and ruin a nice eternity of causing pain to anyone that isn't us?" she asked, a playful smirk on her face.

Arthur took a step forward, his own eyes narrowed. "No, I didn't think that. But I'm afraid I don't need your permission."

The white-haired woman's eyes narrowed even further.

"You don't need it, you say? Think again. You need it. And we're not giving it to you."

Arthur braced himself for anything she might throw at him. Instead of attacking him however, she turned to the blind one and said, "Darling, paste him."

The woman grinned like a well-fed cat and threw a wave of magic at him. Arthur raised his hand, wreathed in protective magic of its own, and the spell the witch had thrown at him bounced back where it came from and knocked the blind woman onto her rear with a loud thud and a surprised gasp.

"What are you doing?" the other woman protested. "I told you to paste him!"

"I tried!" the blind woman whimpered as she stood up, her face contorted in pain. "He just threw my magic back at me!"

The other woman's eyes briefly widened. Then her face melted into a snarl.

"Then forget pasting him. Just drop him in that blasted green drink!"

Still as wobbly as a reed under a storm, the woman reached forward with her magic.

Alarm flared up within him.

He shot his hand out again and dispelled the magic like a sledgehammer shattering glass. The witch's spell exploded with such force that she fell forward with a startled gasp like a circus artist doing a pratfall.

"What?" her fur-clad companion snapped. "You can't do that either?"

"He doesn't let me! He just crushed my spell like a bug!"

The woman with black and white hair looked back at him, her already large eyes suddenly twice bigger, and especially unsettling in her gaunt face.

"You couldn't do that when you arrived…" she murmured.

Arthur blinked in surprise. Given the woman's nature, he hadn't thought she would be even capable of doing such a thing.

"I couldn't," he replied. "As I said during my speech, I was blessed with certain gifts recently." He made it a point to pause and give them a stern glare. "And I see now more than ever that they were needed."

The blind woman's usually empty expression twisted into a scowl. The one in the fur coat bared her teeth like an angry dog and growled. "Speak for yourself!"

"That's exactly what I'm doing." Arthur replied with a pleasant nod. But his stern glare only intensified as he added, "And in case you also missed that part of my speech, let me remind you of something else: I will not mind you either coming to me for help in moving on or you simply staying out of my way. But I will not allow you to make other people miserable."

Both women bared their teeth at him like furious bears, but his display must have startled them a great deal, because they didn't utter a peep.

"I've said my peace. Now if you'll excuse me I have a damage survey to undertake."

Before they could tell him whether they excused him or not, he turned left and walked away, making it a point to not look back toward them as he began a more detailed tour of the Underworld, to see how much damage he had to repair.

He didn't even take ten steps before the cheering began.

* * *

"ALL HAIL KING ARTHUR! ALL HAIL KING ARTHUR!"

Both Cruella and the Blind Witch kept grimacing like they were about to throw up as the screams continued. They were no longer as loud as before, simply because those uttering them were already farther away, but they could still be heard, and Cruella kept clenching her teeth as they continued.

"There goes your plan," the Blind Witch said once the cheers had finally faded, her high-pitched voice even more grating in its disappointed tone.

Cruella snorted in reply. "I didn't exactly hear you coming up with anything better, darling. Or dealing with him while he was here."

"Don't you have hands and feet?" the Blind Witch complained. "Next time, lend some help rather than complain."

"Instead of arguing, let's come up with some other way to deal with this interloping peacock, alright, darling?"

The Blind Witch narrowed her eyes, but at least this time she didn't complain.

"Alright then," she at last said. "Any Plan B?"

Cruella gave no verbal reply, but the slow sinister grin spreading across her face spoke for herself, even if the Blind Witch could not see it.

Stealthy, however, could. And as he saw it, he realized how good an idea it had been to follow them.

He only hoped he could actually help once they put their plan into action.

* * *

 _This is what I meant regarding the prompts not being fully borne out yet. The next oneshot will see their conclusion._

 _I hope you enjoyed thie oneshot, and once more, I welcome any prompts you might have._


	3. Unexpected Words

_Well, it seems that this time around I managed to not take as long to update a new oneshot. I hope those of you who are reading this story enjoy it._

 _This oneshot finishes the prompts for the previous one (Stealthy moving on from Zee-Zee Magee of fanfiction dot net, and Arthur versus Cruella from Bookworm101234 from archiveofourown) and briefly delves into another prompt (Arthur finding people to help him, from Bookworm101234 from archiveofourown)._

 _As always, if you have any prompts of your own, please feel free to send them._

* * *

 **Unexpected Words**

 _Of all the facts considered as prevalent truths across the realms, one of them was the inevitability of all humans facing some form of psychologically damaging event over the course of their lives._

 _However, it was also considered a prevalent fact that some people went through more such ordeals than others, as well as that no two people would cope with the same ordeal equally well or equally badly._

 _A particular display of an inability to cope was the loss of one's voice, even if the affected person had been speaking normally before the trauma that lead to such a thing. Although such instances were not as common as suggested by various forms of fiction, particularly in the Land Without Magic, they did exist._

 _And a boy in the Underworld had become known for not having spoken a word in the many centuries he had spent there, for all the attempts at coaxing it out of him. Some, like Emily Brown and Milah, did so through sympathetic words and moral support. Others, like Prince James and Cruella De Vil, did so through intimidation and even physical aggression. But any method used failed to make him speak. The boy would wimper in sadness at a supportive person, or sob in fear at an evil one, but in all the centuries since his death, he had yet to utter an actual word._

 _As a result, the boy became largely ignored by everyone in the Underworld, including Hades. Even Cruella De Vil lost interest in him after she failed to make him beg her to stop her torture._

 _But interest could be revived. And after Arthur's last stand against her, Cruella had found a new purpose for the terrified mute boy._

* * *

 _In the Underworld's Sorcerer's Mansion_

Sitting at a desk in the house's study, Arthur screwed the lid back onto the fountain pen he had been using. The implement was unlike both the quills he had used in Camelot and the ballpoint pens prevalent in Storybrooke, but it was much more practical than the former and left much crisper lines than the latter.

As such, it had been easy to compose the list that lay before him. But as Arthur picked up the two written pages that lay on the desk, they seemed much heavier than ordinary sheets of paper, as if the responsibility inherent to fixing the problems written on them weighed them down.

Sadly, it was but a small portion of the problems that plagued the Underworld. While Arthur had initially planned to conduct a complete damage survey, he forewent the idea before long. While superficially similar to Storybrooke, this place was much vaster, and while Arthur had noticed that from his arrival, he had only realized how true that was when he started his damage survey. If he inspected the town with the amount of attention required to take notice of all the damage, he would take a couple of weeks in the best of scenarios. So, after three hours only, he had returned to the Sorcerer's Mansion and written down the problems he had noticed in that time.

He did not plan to ignore the problems he hadn't noticed yet, or the parts of the Underworld he hadn't seen yet, but it would be better to start fixing the Underworld one bit at a time, instead of trying to fix it all at once. He had already taken the first step by showing the two witches how he could fight back against them and prevent them from tormenting others; he could move on from there.

And thanks to the invitation he had issued by the clock tower, he already had another issue to tackle.

* * *

 _In the Underworld's forest…_

"I hate tromping through the woods," Cruella De Vil whispered as her shoe sank into the rotten leaves on the ground. "Why couldn't that blasted boy huddle up someplace more sanitary?"

The Blind Witch smiled. "I'd say you could ask him, but given who we're talking about, I doubt you would get an answer."

"Ha ha," Cruella deadpanned. "That was so funny I forgot how to laugh."

Instead of replying, the Blind Witch froze on the spot. Cruella opened her mouth as if to speak, but the other woman raised her hand to silence her and then pointed with her other hand to a tree about forty feet away. The woman in furs looked at that spot, and saw a small figure huddled by the base of the tree.

Both women smiled at the sight.

Then, the Blind Witch snapped her fingers and the two of them vanished in a cloud of maroon smoke. An instant later, both reappeared by the base of the tree they had spotted.

The mute boy looked up at the sound of their teleportation. The two women towered over him, grinning like sadistic predators that played with their food before eating it.

"Come here, little one," the Blind Witch cooed. "We need your help."

The boy's already large and horrified eyes widened a fraction further. He twitched as if thinking about running away. But that was his only reaction before the Blind Witch raised her hand. The next instant, him and the two women had vanished from the spot in another cloud of maroon smoke.

* * *

 _In the Underworld's Sorcerer's Mansion_

As the door to his study clicked shut, Arthur placed his hands on the desk and gazed at the polished surface to gather his thoughts. Perhaps he was wasting time that would be more useful elsewhere, but he needed to gather himself before calling in the next person in the queue, which he already knew was bigger than any he had ever handled in his days as ruler of Camelot. As Camelot had been seemingly perfect, with the Sands of Avalon deceiving everyone into thinking so, not many would request audiences with him, and those that did presented problems he would solve easily enough, when he wasn't too busy trying to find the tip of Excalibur. In the Underworld, it was the opposite.

Objectively, Arthur knew he was dealing with a very small percentage of the Underworld's population. For all the cheering that had followed his defeat of the two witches, most had not yet taken him up on his offer. Most probably felt that not having those women ruining their afterlives was good enough, or that even though he seemed genuinely kind and supportive, they weren't yet ready to take the risk. Also, he hadn't even been ruling the place for a day.

Still, there were at least twenty people outside, besides the six he had already seen. And if his early audiences were anything to go by, all of them had serious issues to present. Lack of knowledge of their unfinished business, questions on the whereabouts of the pages the Author had left behind, fears that certain nastier citizens would become bolder now that Hades was gone, questions about who would take over certain places that were left vacant after their owners or workers moved on… the issues seemed never ending.

Perhaps instead of simply welcoming people in as they arrived, he should start making appointments.

Cries of protest rose up from outside the instant the thought crossed his mind. Arthur sat up, his eyes snapped fully open. Was he somehow thinking audibly?

"Hey, I was here first!"

"Who do you think you are to barge through like that?"

"Didn't you learn any manners while you were alive?"

"Go to the end of the line, you moron!"

Whoever was causing the chaos made no reply. Moments later, the door burst open and a large, thuggish-looking man in a tan jacket and a dull woollen hat barged into the study. Arthur stood up and walked to the front of his desk.

"I have something for you," the man stated.

Arthur stepped toward the man. "I'm afraid that was not proper conduct, good sir. I will make time for everyone, but several people were here first. So, if you please, go to the end of the line and wait your turn like everyone else."

The man scrunched up his nose as if sniffing a particularly foul pile of manure. "I'm not here to pour out my heart or beg for help. I just have a message for you. An important one."

He reached an envelope out toward Arthur. Alarm flared within him.

"Who is it from?"

The thug smirked. "You'll figure it out soon enough."

Then he turned around and walked out of the study, at a quite brisker pace than he had walked in at for all his posturing.

Arthur opened the envelope and pulled out a piece of paper about as big as the postcards he'd seen in Storybrooke. His eyes ran over the few lines scrawled on the paper.

With each word he read, his features grew more rigid, a direct contrast to the magic roiling inside him. The lights on the wall blazed. The electric wires buzzed. His desk vibrated behind him. Scared whispers and murmurs rose up from the line forming at the still open door of his study.

Arthur willed his magic to settle down. The words in that letter could be infuriating, but if he handled the matter with a heated temper, he could do just as much harm as good. Besides, he didn't want to hurt any of the people waiting outside.

Willing his magic down further, Arthur looked at the crowd waiting outside and addressed them.

"I'm sorry, but I'm afraid I need to ask you to leave for a moment. A rather pressing matter has come up. Please make yourselves comfortable in the garden while you wait, and try to keep to your places in the line."

A few displeased murmurs and scowls met his announcement, but those were the only signs of protest before all the people waiting to talk to him filed out of the house and into the garden.

* * *

Far away from there, the Blind Witch smiled as she kept the helpless mute boy floating at the right height and just above the right spot.

Every bit of the trap she and Cruella had lain out was in place. Once the bearded beefcake showed up, they could get rid of him, and show everyone in the Underworld why no one messed with them.

* * *

The instant after leading everyone outside and magically sealing all the entrances to the Sorcerer's Mansion, Arthur teleported to the spot indicated in the message: the Underworld's Harbor.

As it was written, the Blind Witch was there, grinning at him as she magically held someone fifty feet above the water - the same scared mute boy Arthur had briefly questioned upon his arrival.

Arthur clenched his fist, magic sparking around it. He might have stooped to many lows in his misguided days, but this was too much even for him.

"Hi there," the Blind Witch drawled in her usual screechy voice. "I see you got my message."

Arthur's mouth set in a grim line.

"Yes. I got your message." More sparks erupted around his fists as he recalled the words written on it.

"I take it you didn't like it," she deadpanned as if telling an unfunny joke. "I'd say I hope you didn't take it out on poor Claude, but I'm not really worried about what happens to him one way or the other."

A retort moved up Arthur's vocal chords, but it faded as a strange shiver crept through him. Something unusual, as if he was being watched by several pairs of eyes, even though the only people here besides him were the Blind Witch and the boy.

As far as he knew at least. There could be others here lying in wait around here. After all, there were several strange crates and boxes scattered around the harbor, behind which many people could be hiding. Any of them could have any kind of trap ready for him. And if so, it might be something he wasn't ready for.

Putting the thought aside for the time being, Arthur carried on with the conversation. "Then let me tell you I let him leave unharmed. After all, I'm not like you." _Not anymore, at least._

"Figures," the Blind Witch deadpanned.

The boy shook in the Blind Witch's telekinetic grip. Even at such a distance, his eyes looked wide and terrified to the point he'd die from fear if he wasn't dead already.

"So now you've stooped to using a scared defenseless boy as bait. Have you no shame?"

"Of course not," the woman breathed. "I'm a villain. We have no shame about such things."

And hadn't he known it.

"But I didn't call you here for you to scold me," the woman carried on. "I called you here to get rid of you."

The same strange shiver from before crept through him again. But nevertheless, he smirked at the woman even though she couldn't see it.

"And do you really think you can defeat me? After all, last time did not exactly end well for you."

The woman smiled. "Of course I believe I can defeat you. I came prepared."

Arthur frowned. He had suspected that, but hearing that somehow made that reality seem even worse.

A sharp snarl tore him from his thoughts. Arthur turned around. A barrage of four-legged blurs materialized out of nowhere and sped toward him.

 _Cloaking spells!_

Arthur's hand cut forward through the air. The outlines ran straight into his magic and collapsed unconscious on the ground.

A horrified scream cut through the air. Arthur turned to it. The mute boy dropped like a stone into the water.

The former king forced his magic through the air. The boy vanished in a silver cloud just as he was about to touch the water.

A strange drone rose behind him. The boy materialized in his arms in another silver cloud. Arthur stepped backwards from the force of the child landing in his grip.

"LOOK OUT!" a voice shouted from somewhere.

The drone shifted into a roar. Something huge and heavy barreled toward him. Arthur unleashed magic through his being. Air split apart behind him as the massive object got to a hairsbreadth of him.

The next instant, Arthur had vanished from where he stood, the boy still in his arms.

He reappeared about twenty feet farther from the water than he had been. A black and white horseless carriage sped along the harbor, straight toward the Blind Witch. Her lips parted in terror.

The vehicle slammed into her. The woman screamed as she flew like a tossed ragdoll, her arms and legs spread apart like a butterfly's wings. Arthur looked with unblinking eyes, transfixed by the sight.

The woman started to drop toward the water. Arthur clasped the boy to his chest with his left arm and reached forward with his free hand.

Too late.

The Blind Witch landed with a splash. Her scream ended. A strange hissing and haunting murmur followed her dive. He knew without having to look that the sorceress had just dissolved into one of the many green spectres that swam around in the river.

Arthur looked around for his rescuer. A brown-bearded dwarf peeked from behind a crate to his left.

And as an inarticulate snarl came from his right, Arthur turned and saw Cruella De Vil materializing five feet from him, as the cloaking spell covering her also vanished.

"I missed!" she growled.

Arthur blinked. Was this woman for real? Her supposed friend had just met a fate worse than death and she displayed nothing but anger at her failure?

He shook the thoughts from his head. There was no time for them now. He had to deal with them before she used any more dogs - which he now recognized the unconscious blurs as - against him.

"So you did," he replied.

Cruella's eyes flickered toward the car. Arthur snapped his fingers, and the vehicle fell apart in a cloud of glittering dust.

"And as you can see, you won't be trying anything like that in the near future."

The woman glared at him like an angry tiger.

"Aren't you the spoilsport, darling?" she groused.

Arthur's eyes narrowed. "Maybe, but I'll also be kind enough to tell you this. I heard about many things you did from several people, and it wouldn't take a quarter of them for me to have grounds to incarcerate you. And when one is dead, there's no need to be sparing with long sentences." He leaned a fraction toward her. "But fortunately for you, I would rather not start my running of the Underworld with an imprisonment. So I'm giving you your absolute very last chance. From this moment on, if I hear you're up to any kind of misdemeanor, even if it is something as harmless as deliberately sneezing at someone, I'll lock you up in an especially designed cell in the middle of the woods for the rest of eternity. Got it?"

Cruella glared at him again, but either the failure of her plan or the threat he had issued must have been very scared indeed, because she ran away as fast as she could on her towering heels. For a moment, Arthur entertained the notion of doing away with the last chance he had given her and just teleport her into one of the cells at the Sheriff Station. In Camelot, he'd imprisoned people for much less.

The thought of his old rule hit him like a bucket of ice water. He might have done that in Camelot, but now he was trying to be a better person. Granted, this woman might have tried to do something absolutely awful, but many other Underworld denizens were bound to be just as terrible, if not even worse. If Arthur started locking them all up without giving them a real chance at redemption, it might not be very long before he became the next Hades.

But then again, if he let her go now, she might just keep tormenting people.

No. He had already been aggressive enough in stopping them by the clock tower, as well as now in destroying the car. So this once, just this once, he would let her off with a mere warning and damaged properly.

The little boy shifted in his arms. Arthur put him down and then crouched a fraction to behold him at eye-level

"Are you alright?"

 _You dope!_ Arthur scolded himself the words left his mouth. _Of course he's not! And he won't be answering you anyway!_

But strangely, much to his surprise, the boy's throat started pulsing, as if he was trying to will it into forming words but no longer knew how to do it.

Arthur waited patiently, trying to look as encouraging as possible. The boy's mouth opened time and again, like a fish gasping out of water, but no sound would come forth.

It might be better not to expect too much of him now. The lad had been through quite an ordeal. He couldn't be expected to break centuries of silence because of a single event.

"Never you mind," Arthur replied as he straightened up. "Let's get you to a more pleasant place."

Arthur put his hand on the boy's back to nudge him forward, but the child froze like a statue, still looking up at him. He opened his mouth again.

And then, scratchy from a voice that had spent centuries unused, two single words crawled forth from the boy's lips.

"Thank you."

A muted gasp left Arthur's lips, as amazement beyond his comprehension filled him to the brim. Even in a world of strange carriages that moved alone, books that traveled across realms, and gods that could grant powers, somehow hearing those two scratchy words was the most incredible thing that had ever happened to him.

Then happiness broke through him.

"You're most welcome, young man," Arthur replied at the boy, as satisfaction filled him more than it ever had when he ruled Camelot.

Never in his wildest dreams would he have expected that the beginning of his running the Underworld would have gone so well. Granted, there had been a few mishaps, but compared to the difficulties potentially inherent to such a task, this seemed as easy as only having to pull a shovelful of dung from the stable every day.

The only way it could get better was if he managed to help at least one person to move on.

And perhaps he already knew just who would be first.

"And you know what?" Arthur told the boy. "I think there might be something else I can do for you."

For the first time since Arthur had met him, an emotion other than fear flickered in the boy's eyes. Hope.

Arthur raised his hand again. The last thing he saw before he teleported himself and the boy away from the harbor was the dwarf scurrying away from the water, presumably afraid of falling in by accident or being pushed in by a vengeful Cruella De Vil.

* * *

Later, after attending to the boy's other issue and listening to all those he had left waiting at the Sorcerer's Mansion, Arthur walked into the Blind Witch's diner. Although the owner had fallen into the river, the workers kept moving about serving meals and drinks, and the patrons kept consuming them. When he walked in, some gave him looks of both relief and nervousness, while others looked outright horrified, with the average gazing at hm with a strange mix of respect and fear, which left him uncomfortable on more than one level.

One of them, the same dwarf that had warned him about Cruella De Vil's plan, looked much calmer than the rest. But as Arthur walked up to him, even he frowned in nervousness.

"Something wrong?" the dwarf asked.

"Nothing at all. I would simply like to thank you, my friend. Without your warning, both the boy and me would have ended up in that infernal water."

The dwarf waved the words away. "It's alright. I was glad to help." He cracked a smile. "But let me tell you, it wasn't easy to track them down when they started teleporting."

Arthur chuckled. "I can imagine."

The dwarf chuckled also. Then he looked around as if trying to find something, or someone.

"What happened to the kid?" the dwarf asked.

Arthur raised an appeasing hand. "Do not fear..."

"Stealthy," the dwarf filled in.

"Do not fear, Stealthy. The boy has simply left for the better place."

"You mean…"

"Yes. He has moved on. Apparently, his unfinished business was overcoming his fear enough to recover his voice."

The dwarf smiled a bit, the expression slightly glazed over as if he was deep in thought. "Funny how unfinished business can be something so small and yet so difficult to figure out."

Arthur nodded. Sometimes, unfinished business could be complicated, but other times, it was surprisingly simple.

And on that matter…

"Do you have any idea what yours may be?" Arthur offered. "I'd be glad to help you figure it out."

Stealthy smiled. "No need. I already figured it out. In fact, I would have moved on already, but I wanted to make sure Cruella and the Blind Witch wouldn't just go back to wrecking the place before doing so."

Reading between the lines, Arthur guessed that Stealthty had loved ones who would die at some point and he'd rather they didn't deal with those two if they had unfinished business. And given that Stealthy had made it a point to follow Cruella and the Blind Witch, not to mention warn him when she unleashed the vehicle on him, maybe the dwarf had, in a sense, stayed to help him. And indeed, perhaps he could use some help. After all, there was a lot to do in the Underworld.

But it was a busy work, and eternity was far too long. He couldn't actually ask anyone to bear the burden with him.

So, instead of asking the dwarf for help, he offered, "Seeing as that is settled, would you like to move on now? I can escort you to the bridge if you would wish me to."

The dwarf's eyes lit up. "Really?"

"Absolutely."

The dwarf sprang from his chair. "Let's go then."

* * *

Instead of teleporting, Arthur and Stealthy walked up to the place where he would make the crossing. Teleporting was quick, but it had its inconveniences. Not only did one miss the sights, but one also missed everything that was along the way, including opportunities for conversation.

And although Stealthy was not the chattiest of people, he did have some new bits of information to share with Arthur, of which he had gladly taken notice. Of those, the most important was likely the place where Cruella had hidden the phone booths that had once existed throughout the Underworld, which apparently were used by the deceased to send messages to their loved ones. Arthur had vowed to do his best to fix them as soon as possible.

He had also asked Arthur if he knew anything about what had happened to his brothers, but everything that the former king had been able to share was that, as far as he knew, the only one Hades had killed besides Arthur himself had been Robin Hood. Again, Arthur wondered when, and if, he would see the outlaw in the Underworld.

Between all their bits of conversation, Stealthy and Arthur arrived at the bridge almost before they knew it. And once that happened, the dwarf's eagerness at moving on gave way to very noticeable hesitation.

Arthur could understand. After all, a cave with jagged walls surrounding a pit brimming with fire and with two rocky ledges that looked like they had once formed a bridge was not exactly the most inviting picture.

"So… how does this work exactly?" Stealthy asked.

"From what I understand, you walk across it. Then once you get to the edge, the bridge will complete itself, a light will erupt in the tunnel on other side of the path, and your better place will be visible once it fades." He thought back to the only two occasions he had seen someone move on. "At least, that's what happened to the little boy."

Stealthy nodded, the look of nervousness ever present. His eyes shifted from Arthur to the bridge, as if thinking about asking him to come along on that part of the journey as well.

Arthur deliberately took a small step back. He understood the dwarf's fears, but this was something Stealthy had to do for himself. Arthur did not want to move on by accident and leave the Underworld without anyone after he had promised to restore it.

The dwarf's eyes widened a fraction.

Then, he rolled his shoulders, turned to the ledge, and started walking toward it.

The flames at the bottom of the pit flared when Stealthy put his right foot on the bridge, but they did not reach up to claim him.

With each step he gave, the flames would flicker and swish through the air. More than once, he would stop for several seconds as if afraid a fiery hand would reach up and pull him down.

And each time, he would keep moving on, regardless of the flames or his fear of falling.

He went in silence right up to the edge. Nothing happened.

Then, as he put his foot past the middle, the air above it shimmered, the two ledges on each side of the pit united to form a bridge, and a blinding light surged on the tunnel at the other end. Stealthy raised his forearm to shield his eyes, and in spite of himself, Arthur's brow creased a fraction.

After several seconds, the light faded, and the passage had been replaced with an exit that revealed a lush, peaceful-looking forest, with a cottage peeking from behind the trees.

Stealthy's better place.

Now confident, the dwarf turned around to Arthur. "One more thing. If you manage to fix those phones, could you try to let my brothers know I moved on?"

"I will."

"Thanks."

The dwarf raised his hand in farewell. Then, he turned back to the archway and resumed his walk. Once he got to the tunnel's exit, the light blazed again. The next instant, both Stealthy and the picture of his happy ending had vanished.

Arthur stayed behind for a few moments longer, reflecting on everything he still had to do. The key issues springing to his mind were keeping squabbles from growing into wars, finding new workers for the places that got vacant after people either moved on or fell into a worse place, repairing the phone booths, and, most importantly of all, finding a way to properly retrieve those who had fallen into the River of Lost Souls and put them in a state fit for them to deal with their unfinished business and move on.

He had his work cut out for him, but he also had a new set of skills to help him. Most of the tasks he had mentioned would be easy enough to handle, and while two of them posed a certain challenge, Arthur figured that with enough patience and hard work, he would be able to accomplish them as well.

* * *

 _This was actually meant to be part of the previous oneshot, but I came to the conclusion that it would have been unduly long if it had stayed there, so instead I made a separate oneshot out of it._

 _And now that Arthur is fully settled in the Underworld, the story can really begin. I do have a few ideas for where to go next, but nevertheless, feel free to keep sending your prompts._


End file.
